Forever
by The Ocean Is My Inkwell
Summary: Eva Ligaya never wanted to lead such a dangerous life as a half-blood's. What's more, she's unclaimed--and she is forced to go on a quest to rescue her sister. My first fanfic; flames received, flamers banned. FINISHED!
1. Chapter 1: My Uninvited Concert Guest

**I will NOT repeat the silly disclaimer that everyone around here is posting.**

**Thanks, and enjoy!**

Chapter 1: My Uninvited Concert Guest

I straightened my dark lacy gown, smoothing the creased ebony silk and tucking a stray strand of dark hair back. I pressed an ear to the door and strained, exhaling loudly as I heard the emcee's muffled voice calling, "And now, we are pleased to present Miss Eva Ligaya, our guest singer for tonight's concert!"

My heart skipped a beat, then suddenly found a place in my mouth. With my stomach flipping one hundred times a minute, I gently pushed open the door and strode out from behind the dark blue velvet curtain and onto the wooden stage, my footsteps ringing. I glanced at my older sister Nienna, positioned at the piano, and nodded. The music began.

The beginning note of my composition, "Moonlight," was high and sweet. The piano keys flashed up and down in perfect rhythm; then I felt my heart beating faster and faster as the music swelled.

_In the dark of the night,_

_There is no one in sight,_

_And I am all alone._

_In the light of the moon,_

_When the dawn will come soon,_

_I am all alone._

_Silver snow is falling on the ground;_

_Stars are shining, making not a sound._

_As I gaze out on the street_

_I can hear the silent feet_

_Walking on._

_I am waiting for the golden sun,_

_I am waiting for the dawn._

_I am thinking of the things I've done._

_Now my heart is bare_

_With all the wrong in there._

_Now the moon is shining in my eyes._

_I don't want this night to end on "Why?"_

_Have you ever wondered to yourself, "Oh Why?"_

My voice rang strong and clear as it hit the highest note in the song on the word "why." To be exact, it was A-flat''. I pulled in all the air I needed and flung my voice up to the rafters. Then, my heart beating more evenly now, I drew my song to a close.

_Silver snow is falling on the ground;_

_Stars are shining, making not a sound._

_As I gaze out on the street_

_I can hear the silent feet_

_Walking on._

_I am waiting for the golden sun,_

_I am waiting for the dawn._

_I am thinking of the things I've done._

_In the light of the moon,_

_When the dawn will come soon,_

_I am all alone._

A full minute passed before the audience, one by one, rose from their seats and applauded. Smiling, I bowed, my long black hair brushing past my cheek.

Suddenly, above the thunder of clapping, I heard a sound—low and menacing, a growl. I froze in the middle of my third bow, and I could feel Nienna tensing behind me too. The sound was issuing from behind the curtain.

Slowly, cautiously, I straightened and turned. Crouching before me was the biggest and ugliest creature I had ever seen. In my subconscious I reviewed my Greek mythology—it was a manticore.

Screams from behind me shattered my thoughts. Slowly I backed away, but with each step I took back, the monster took another menacing step forward. Then I felt the cold, hard wall against my back. I was trapped.

The world around me blurred. I had no weapon, no chair I could grab and hurl at the monster's face. Little sharp needles rained down past me and thunked in the wood, and I gasped. The monster was shooting arrows.

What happened next was forever blurred in my mind. Suddenly I opened my mouth, and a high, keening note filled the air. Slowly it grew stronger and climbed higher, and time slowed. I sank myself into my voice, hardly noticing that the hail of arrows had stopped. The ground was shuddering beneath me, and I gripped the wall for support. Before my eyes the monster wavered and snarled; then suddenly a cool wind whipped through the air, and the image of the manticore snapped dissolved, blown away in a cloud of mist.

I closed my eyes and breathed the cool, fresh night air. My lungs felt as though they would burst. All around me I hear shouts and shrieks from the people and chairs and glasses shattering on the floor. I sank to my knees, letting the shards of glass pierce my skin. Suddenly a hand was on my arm, strong and solid, lifting me up. Nienna's cool voice whispered in my ear, "Hold still, Eva. I'm getting you out."

And I drifted into the dark, welcome world of unconsciousness.

**A/N: Review—if you dare! (All right, have some chocolate chip cookies!) **


	2. Chapter 2: A Very Warm Reception

**I have decided to repeat that silly disclaimer after all. Readers, I do not own the original plot of Rick Riordan's series; neither did I create it. However, I do own the new characters and plot introduced here.**

**Thanks, and enjoy!**

Chapter 2: A Very Warm Reception

I awoke with a start on a soft featherbed, swathed in spotless white linens. The walls around me were all likewise whitewashed, creating the effect of snow lying for miles around. Where was I?

Suddenly it all came back to me in a flash, and I realized that Nienna had brought me here. It certainly didn't look like a hospital, and I earnestly hoped it wasn't an asylum. Cautiously I crept out from under the covers and placed my weight uncertainly on my feet. My knees nearly buckled, but I grabbed at a nearby shelf and began walking toward what appeared to be a door. Just as I laid my hand on the knob, the door swung open, and my sister came strolling in with a tray of juice and cookies—or at least, what I thought it to be.

"Oh! Good, you're awake," said Nienna. She guided me back to the bed and set the tray down beside me.

"Where am I?" I demanded. "How long have I been out? And what happened at the concert?"

Nienna grinned and held up her hands to stop me. "One question at a time, Eva. You've been out since last night, at the concert. What you saw there was real, not just your imagination, if that's what you're thinking. And as for your whereabouts, you're here in Camp Half-Blood."

"Camp Half-Blood?" The words seemed foreign on my tongue, but somehow they seemed familiar, as if they were connected with the hideous monster I had battled the previous night with my song.

Nienna nodded.

"But…but what about the orphanage? The matron? Won't they be looking for us?" My sister and I had grown up as orphans in an orphanage in the middle of New York City; no one had ever adopted us, even when we were young. There in the orphanage, Nienna and I had caught up with our studies (and done very well) and learned music. Nienna had always suspected that we had a mother, but we had never known her.

In answer to my query, Nienna shook her head. "The camp activities director here allowed me to phone the orphanage and let them know we'd…um…_disappear_ for quite a while."

I glanced suspiciously at my sister. "Have you been going to this camp all this time?"

Again she shook her head. "Usually half-bloods like me go year-round or all summer, but once I came here—remember the time I was away—and was claimed, I left and stayed with you at the orphanage."

I stared at her. "What are you talking about? What are half-bloods? And what do you mean by 'claimed'?"

She paused, then handed me the glass of apple juice. "Here, drink this first. Then I'll tell you."

I sipped the juice and was shocked to find that it tasted nothing like apple juice at all. It was pink lemonade, the flavor I'd simply die for.

Nienna smiled when I drained the glass. Then she took a deep breath and began. "Eva, remember all those Greek myths we studied at the orphanage?"

I nodded.

"Well," she said, "the people in them—the heroes and the gods and goddesses—they were all real."

I gaped at her. "Nienna, I'm telling you, I feel like I'm in an asylum."

She laughed. "It's true! Believe it, Eva, or I'll never forgive you."

I paused and continued to study her face. At last, after a long internal debate, I sighed and resigned myself, though it still seemed hard to believe. "So…these 'half-bloods' are kids of the gods?"

Nienna nodded. "Kids of gods and mortals, to be exact."

"So who's your parent, Nienna?"

"Apollo."

I nodded and thought, it makes sense. Apollo was the god of the arts, and Nienna was definitely the most talented pianist on earth. I glanced at her. "And what about me?"

Nienna cocked her head and studied me. "Actually, I'm not sure, Eva. Apollo certainly would be your type, but there are several other things that don't fit in—for instance, you don't have dyslexia like I do, or even a mild case of ADHD."

"Is that a sign if you're a half-blood?"

Nienna nodded.

I swallowed. "Maybe I'm not a half-blood at all! Maybe I'm just a mortal!"

My sister smiled encouragingly. "Oh, I'm sure you are a child of the Olympians, Eva. You were able to enter the magical borders of the camp. Come on, get dressed; I brought your things from the orphanage. Then we can go see the camp activities director for advice."

The camp activities director, Chiron, made my eyes pop out of my head.

As we emerged from what was called the Big House, I saw what appeared to be a dappled grey centaur galloping toward us. I glanced at Nienna uneasily.

"Yes, that's Chiron," she assured me. "He also has a human form as a professor in a wheelchair."

I sincerely hoped this Mr. Chiron would convert to human form, so I wouldn't have to crane my neck looking up at him.

"Greetings, child," said Chiron to Nienna as he thudded to a halt before us. "I see you have brought your sister Eva. Come, I will explain some things to you on the porch."

On the back of the wraparound porch was a table set with a pinochle game for two. Already sitting there was a stout, sour-faced man with pulpy cheeks the hue of crimson-violet, making me think he had just finished shouting for a full minute without taking a breath before we arrived.

"This is Mr. D., our camp director," said Chiron kindly, turning to me.

The man looked up. "That's Dionysus, god of wine," he said loudly. His gaze shifted to me. "Ah, a new brat to waste my time and rob me of my mind. Heroes, they call themselves! You, Ella Leighton—"

"It's Eva Ligaya," I interrupted curtly. I had disliked this "Dionysus, god of wine" from the very start.

Mr. D. waved his hand dismissively. "Go on, little brat. Run to your grandpa Chiron." He smirked at the centaur.

Chiron ignored him. "Eva, I have heard from your sister that you may be a half-blood. However, you bear certain qualities that tend to indicate otherwise…for instance, the lack of dyslexia and ADHD."

"I wear glasses, though," I interjected, pointing at my black semi-rimless lenses (**A/N: I really wear those glasses**).

He went on. "However, if you would like to stay with your sister for the summer, Camp Half-Blood will gladly provide housing, food, and enough activities to keep you busy. Meanwhile, I will go about investigating the matter."

I cleared my throat. "Um, Mr. Chiron…if I am not claimed, what will happen to me?"

"You will either stay with the Hermes cabin, where all the unclaimed children are, or you may return to the orphanage."

"Blah, blah, blah," was the very intelligent comment of Mr. D.

**A/N: Okay, guys, you can review if you wish. However, I am determined to continue this story despite any lack of positive reviews or an inundation of negative comments. And again, PLEASE DO NOT EMAIL ME. Several people emailed me after the first chapter, and I had many uncomfortable moments checking the email with my mom looking over my shoulder.**

**Thanks, and rest assured that I will update again soon! (And here, I'm giving apple strudel for the reviews!)**


	3. Chapter 3: Best Enemies Forever

**I have decided to repeat that silly disclaimer after all. Readers, I do not own the original plot of Rick Riordan's series; neither did I create it. However, I do own the new characters and plot introduced here.**

**Oh, and another thing—this is set after Percy Jackson's adventures; that is why Kronos' death and Clarisse are mentioned.**

**Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy!**

Chapter 3: Best Enemies Forever

No other place on earth had ever been as fun for me as Camp Half-Blood. Nienna towed me about on a tour of all the different activities. I sampled the acrylic and watercolor painting, which the art teacher declared I had done magnificently on. Music, of course, was my forte. I was also skilled at swimming, but that had been because I'd taken lessons with humans. Canoeing found its place way above my mind.

Archery, just as Nienna had expected, was fun for me. I didn't always get my shots perfectly, but it was easy, and I never missed the target. To give myself a rest before swordplay, I dropped by the Athena cabin, and was both amazed and delighted by what I saw.

The cabin was crowded with the laptops and sketches and diagrams of computer geeks. The Athena kids sprawled on the rugs or hunched over their computers, reading books in Greek and typing up detailed outlines of their inventions or their first brainchild. I slid through the door, which hung ajar with posters and bulletins of technological news, and fit right in.

A guy scrambled to his feet to clear a way for me. I flashed him a quick smile. He seemed about my age, with a shock of thatch-brown hair hastily pushed out of his olive eyes. He bowed—a sketchy, clumsy, long-legged bow—but nonetheless, it was a gallant (if not humorous) bow.

"Ah! A newcomer is in our midst, dear friends!" he cried, trying and failing miserably to deepen his voice like a knight's. "And a dark-haired beauty at that, too," he added, smiling into my eyes.

My ears grew hot.

"I—I just dropped by to say hello," I stammered. "My sister Nienna is touring me around the camp."

"Come stay!" cried the boy, sweeping me another bow. Seriously, I thought he was overdoing the gallantry.

He observed my puzzled glance at his appearance. "You have detected, dear lady, that I am no son of our Lady Athena," he laughed. He bowed yet again. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Adam, third son of our Lady Demeter. I was visiting my sister Rhona here, who is a child of Lady Athena."

I smiled hesitantly. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Eva. And…um…could you speak in modern English?"

"I was born in the year 1872, you see," Adam explained, as if he had said this for the umpteenth time. "I am two years my sister's senior. We happened to stay at the Lotus Hotel for approximately one hundred thirty-five years—that is, until last year, when a strange man came to convince us to abandon the pleasures of the inn."

The Lotus Hotel. I'd heard Nienna tell me of that place—the enchanted inn where half-bloods wandered in and lost track of time. It had been the trap of the Titan lord Kronos, who was now long dead, to defeat half-bloods on their quests to destroy monsters or find missing items for the Greek gods.

I shuddered.

"How old are you supposed be?" I asked.

"Thirteen," he said.

I smiled. "So am I."

"The sword," called Adam across the arena, "is an object that will go wherever you direct it. It is made of celestial steel, and it will not hurt you unless you allow it to." He hefted his own sword, which had a bronze hilt embossed with leaves and vines, the sign of his mother.

"Must I practice with a wooden sword?" I said.

Adam smiled. "No. Here, I picked out a sword that I thought would suit you best." He handed me a short, broad blade with an edge that glinted wickedly in the sunlight. The hilt was a smoky color, something like steel but not quite. An owl shrouded in leaves was the design embossed in it.

"It's celestial silver," explained Adam. "It's very strong."

Suddenly he lunged at me from the side, and gasping, I whirled and creased my face in pain as the clash of our swords rang in my ears. He pranced away and leaped at me again, but I jumped off the ground and met him in midair. I caught sight of his face, eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, before we descended to solid earth with a painful thump. His sword skittered along the wall of the arena beyond his reach.

"You certainly are strong," he panted.

"But not as strong as me!" intoned an enormous voice behind us. I whirled to face a girl as enormous as her voice, her dull and flaccid brown hair falling in front of her face. Her eyes—I can hardly describe them—glowed crimson, like a dragon's.

I stared at this new lunatic who had wandered in our path. "Who are you?"

"I am Marsha, second daughter of Ares, following in the footsteps of my ancient sister Clarisse," she said. She laid a hand on a flashing sword that hung easily at her side. "Do you dare to challenge me to a sparring match, unclaimed newbie?"

I flinched, but I stood taller. "Yes," I said, and walked slowly out to the center of the arena.

She lunged before I even saw her. I raised my blade to block her oncoming attack. She landed on top me, and we rolled over and over in the sand. Then I found myself perched on top of her, and we were glaring into each other's eyes. Then we were off again.

She was pressing hard, and she held the advantage because of her bulk and her heavy sword. I panted and struggled for more breath. Then I lowered my arm and wiped the sweat off my brow, as if resting.

She sneered. "Dead gal!" she shrieked, and leaped at me.

I disappeared.

"Where'd you go?" she screamed.

I stood and dusted off my jeans, surveying in my mind how I had rolled between her legs and caught the tip of her blade at the same time, jerking it down and disarming her.

She gaped at me in shock. Then she narrowed her eyes. "This is an insult," she hissed. "No one before you has yet defeated me!"

I smiled my most dazzling smile. "It seems," I replied, "that you have finally found your match."

**A/N: All right, it's blueberry cobbler pie today. Reviews, please!**

**Continue reading my story, and have a nice day (or night)!**


	4. Chapter 4: A Midnight Snack

**I have decided to repeat that silly disclaimer after all. Readers, I do not own the original plot of Rick Riordan's series; neither did I create it. However, I do own the new characters and plot introduced here.**

**Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy!**

Chapter 4: A Midnight Snack

My space was cramped and stuffy in the Hermes cabin that night. I tossed and pulled the covers over my shoulders, then yanked them off again, and then finally fell into an exhausted sleep.

_I stared into the swirling, misty darkness. The fog curled its tendrils round my ankles and seemed to draw me closer to the throbbing, pulsing knot of inky blackness. Swallowing my fear, I raised my eyes with an effort and was brave enough to peer down into the whirling blackhole of emptiness._

_Suddenly I spotted a figure coming toward me quickly, straight out of the blackhole. As it came nearer, I saw that it was a tall man, his golden hair disheveled, his clothes in disarray, and his ice-blue eyes wild. He ran toward me. "Eva!" he cried. "Quick, draw closer! I bear a message for you."_

_Involuntarily I did as he bade, and he halted before me, glancing frequently over his shoulder. "Eva, it concerns your sister Nienna. You will search for her in the forest in vain, but you shall not find her there, for indeed, she is not here or anywhere. Eva, I tell you now, the task has been appointed to you to go and seek out your sister. You will have ten days. If you fail to find and rescue her, she will be lost forever."_

I woke up panting, the beads of sweat standing on my brow. My temples throbbed. I threw off the covers of my sleeping bag and raced out of the cabin and up the hill to the Big House, where I hoped to find Chiron still awake.

To my surprise, he was not there. Instead, who should I find lingering by the refrigerator but Adam himself!

"Come for a midnight snack?" he teased, arching a brow, as I burst into the room, panting.

I shook my head, trying to catch my breath. At last I found my voice. "Don't joke, Adam. It's serious. I had a—a dream."

Immediately he sobered, and he took a step forward. "Well…would you like to tell me about it?"

So I did.

"What did the man look like?" he asked.

"He was tall and blonde," I recalled, "and his eyes were light blue. His voice was very soft."

"It seems that you were visited by Lord Morpheus, god of dreams," said Adam. "But that's not important. What did he tell you?"

"He—he said that Nienna's gone!" I cried.

"Where?"

"Oh, I don't know. He said that she's not here at camp anymore, but she isn't anywhere else in the world, either. Adam, do you think…?" My voice trailed off, dangerously close to tears.

To my surprise, Adam moved closer and placed his arm awkwardly about my shoulder. "Don't cry," he said, urgently proffering me his handkerchief.

"I don't understand!" I cried. "What do I do? Where do I go? How can I find Nienna if she isn't _in_ this world?"

Adam appeared dumbfounded for a moment; then realization dawned on both of us at the same instant. "Eva, she's not lost forever," he said. "She's stuck in time."

I turned toward him. "What?"

We waited until dawn, when Chiron (as Adam assured me several times) would supposedly awake and come down to the kitchen of the Big House to grab his early breakfast. We could not have returned to our individual cabins anyway, since the cleaning harpies that patrolled the camp would have immediately devoured us upon first sight.

Mr. Chiron was equally surprised as we were when he descended from his room, with curlers sticking out of his tale and with his light blue cloud pajamas ruffled across the chest. "Greetings, child," he said, nodding at me. "Why are you here?"

Quickly I told him about the previous night bringing Morpheus' message in my dreams; when my account of the recent happenings was over, I saw Chiron's face was creased with lines of worry. "That is not good, Eva," he warned me. "At this point, I would advise you to go upstairs to the attic to consult the Oracle."

_The Oracle_.

I swallowed. Nienna had told me before about the Oracle, the shriveled mummy within which dwelled the spirit of an ancient Grecian woman of the myths (excuse the phrase!) who prophesied to those who sought advice.

And so, my knees knocking together, I ascended through the trapdoor and up the ladder to the attic, where I found an expansive chamber littered about with castaway swords and cobwebby battle armor; lost and forgotten scarves and hats hung on rusty nails, while other strange-looking keepsakes swung from pegs on the opposite wall. I glimpsed a silky, filmy pink scarf with a tag labeled "Lady Aphrodite M. Venus"; a brass imitation of a lightning bolt labeled "Lord Zeus E. Jupiter"; and a pair of battered red-and-white Nike sneakers with the muddy tag "Lord Hermes F. Mercury," among several others.

Leaning against the wall to my far left, perched on a rickety wooden stool, was the ugliest and also the scariest shriveled mummy I had ever seen. It was swathed in one long strip of dusty olive-hued linen that draped about its body like a _sari_. Hesitantly I forced myself to take a step forward.

Suddenly the mummy opened its mouth, and a turquoise spiral of mist emanated from within. "Approach, seeker, and ask," whispered a hoarse woman's voice.

I gritted my teeth and stepped up another inch. "Oracle, where will I find my sister?"

Again the mist twisted and then changed color, slowly forming into the shadowy figures of Adam, Marsha, Chiron, and Mr. D. seated at a table. Adam addressed me first.

"_Three shall journey east to the forbidden land._

_They shall cross the ice of time, the desert sand."_

Then came Marsha.

"_One shall be lost, another broken;_

_The third shall die and leave a token."_

My teeth were chattering, but I set my jaw and heard out Chiron.

"_One shall rise to join the twelve,_

_Another half-blood through the dark realm delve."_

I truly thought of bolting as soon as Mr. D. opened his mouth.

"_The lost shall return from the realm of the past,_

_But what will come first is what you thought last."_

The aqua mist spiraled backward and disappeared through the Oracle's mouth and down its throat, leaving me in inky darkness.


	5. Chapter 5: My Surrogate Father

**I have decided to repeat that silly disclaimer after all. Readers, I do not own the original plot of Rick Riordan's series; neither did I create it. However, I do own the new characters and plot introduced here.**

**Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy!**

Chapter 5: My Surrogate Father

I was so exhausted that I slept the whole morning away as soon as Adam had escorted me back to the Hermes cabin. When I awoke, I immediately flew to my feet and took a quick shower. After dressing in dark jeans and an orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt, I quickly braided my long black hair and headed over to the Dining Pavilion, where I found that I was just in time for lunch.

I slid my plate next to where Chiron sat at a small table across from Mr. D. "I need to talk to you," I said.

Chiron nodded. "About a quest to find your sister," he filled in for me. "Yes, I was thinking about that all morning."

I looked at him, waiting. I barely touched my pepperoni pizza in my distress.

"Well, you see," muttered Chiron in my ear, plucking his long silver beard, "I'm afraid I can't give you a quest. The rules of the Olympians lords simply don't allow it for an unclaimed half-blood." He raised a hand to quiet the protest rising to my lips. "Yes, I know. I understand that this is an urgent mission, and Zeus knows"—here the sky rumbled rather ominously—"that I would not simply allow a half-blood like your sister to simply be lost without any effort to regain her."

Apparently Mr. D. had heard our entire exchange. He sniffed loudly.

I glared at him.

He flew into a rage. "Well, what do you think you are looking at me like that for, now, young lady?"

I turned away, disgusted. "I'd thought to expect more effort and assistance on your part," I said scathingly.

Suddenly I heard a collective gasp from the kids seated all around. I turned to them and found them all staring at something hovering above me.

It was a black stone helm swirling in a dark grey cloud above my head. I thought the earth shook a bit; then the image faded.

Across the pavilion, I spotted Adam going pale. "Oh, no," he called. "Not another one!"

I turned to all the people around me. Marsha was sneering, Mr. D. was grimacing, and Chiron had the most worried face I'd ever seen on earth.

"What?" I said.

Chiron turned on me a pair of silver eyes full of what I could not call either pity or anxiety. Then he stood and bowed from waist down. "Hail, Eva Ligaya, daughter of Hades, lord of the Underworld."

"Adam, I absolutely cannot believe my ears or my eyes." I pushed my glasses too far up my nose and sagged against the white stone pillar, blowing the hair from my face with a deep sigh.

He said nothing.

"I can't possibly a daughter of Hades!" I exploded. "I'm too good at swimming and archery and painting and music and all the rest. There's something all wrong. There must be a mistake."

Adam patted my arm awkwardly, but at this point I could not be consoled. "How am I supposed to deal with the fact that as a daughter of Hades, I have no place at Camp Half-Blood? And meanwhile, as every second ticks by, my sister is nearer to dying?" I flung away his hand and fled across the grassy slope back to where I had left my things in the Hermes cabin.

I was astonished to find that my clothes and accessories had already been folded and packed into a black Jansport backpack. Placed right on top was a neatly pressed envelope just the hue of marble. I picked it up and drew out the paper inside.

_Eva,_

_You have no choice but to believe me when I tell you that I am not your true father. Your parents asked me the great favor of claiming you as my own daughter so as to keep their identity unrevealed. They have their own reasons for this, I believe, but since I am not one to pry, I have not investigated their motivations._

_Inside the backpack, I have included with your necessities a few other gifts, as you may call them. Simply reach into your pack when you are in need of something in any predicament, and you will be provided with what you need. Included in the envelope is an additional item that I would prefer you keep near you at all times._

_Lord Hades_

I peered into the envelope and found, to my surprise, a fine necklace with a long gold chain and a strange pendant—it seemed to be the shape of a grey owl carrying an arrow in its beak. I wondered at the meaning of this. Carefully I withdrew the necklace from its wrapping and unfastened the clasp. Immediately the pendant begin to shimmer and grow in my hands, and soon I had not a necklace, but a glowing golden bow and a quiver of arrows. A small sheet of paper, thrice folded, had been tucked inside the quiver. It read: "_To make this weapon compact again, press the pendant twice._"

I stared, openmouthed, at all these gifts that my uncle had so freely given me. Then, setting my jaw grimly, I shrank my newly found weapon, sheathed the sword I had been given by Adam in the practice ring, and slung the backpack over my shoulder and headed outside.

**Oooh! A quest now! That's what you've been all waiting for, huh? Well, keep on reviewing and I'll let you know what happens!**

***distributes plates heaped with oatmeal raisin cookies***


	6. Chapter 6: Stowaways on the Same Cab

**I have decided to repeat that silly disclaimer after all. Readers, I do not own the original plot of Rick Riordan's series; neither did I create it. However, I do own the new characters and plot introduced here.**

**Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy!**

Chapter 6: Stowaways On the Same Cab

"Get me as far away on Long Island as you can," I directed the portly cab driver. He swiveled in his driver's seat and stared at me as though I were a complete lunatic.

"What did you just say, miss?" he breathed incredulously.

I set my jaw. "You heard me. Get me to Long Island."

The driver bawked. "Miss, you don't know what you're asking for. The very tip of Long Island's at least a hundred miles from here."

I had just opened my mouth to argue and possibly threaten him when a calm, clear voice interrupted me.

"Sir," said a dark-haired boy suddenly seated beside me, "Perhaps solid gold will convince you to step on the gas a bit?"

I gaped as Adam plunked the golden drachma into the openmouthed driver's palm. "Where did _you_ come from?" I hissed, grabbing a fistful of Adam's t-shirt and jerking him closer.

Adam grinned mischievously. "Oh, you can't defy the prophecy," he told me. "It said that _three_, not one, would go on this quest of yours."

I peered at his face suspiciously. "And where's that third quest member?"

He performed an intricate bow and indicated with a finger the large, big-lipped, mud-haired girl seated just on the other side of the cab. Marsha.

I was totally furious by now. "What did you mean by bringing _her_?" I yelled in his face, loud enough to wake the dead in the Underworld (pardon my expression.)

But Adam only shrugged and settled back again, smoothing his t-shirt and checking his hair to see that I hadn't disheveled it, too. "Sir?" he addressed the driver. "Shall we get on now?"

The driver nodded, still wide-eyed after witnessing our fierce argument, and stepped on the gas. Meanwhile, in the back seat, I glared at Adam for the whole time out of the corner of my eye.

I stepped out of the cab and breathed in the cool, fresh air of the harbor. Adam and the hulking figure of Marsha immediately followed me out like two shadows, and sighing resignedly, I led the way.

"I did some research while packing," I told them. "Apparently, this place where we're headed is located near the harbor of Long Island. It's a deserted airport, in fact. And we're looking for completely flat, open ground."

"I don't see how much that helps us," grumbled Adam. "There are so many airports in this part of New York. You wouldn't know what to look for."

I cast him an exasperated glance. "Be optimistic," was all I replied—and in quite a tone that indicated exactly the opposite, I was sure.

At last, after traipsing about on foot for about three hours nonstop, and after hearing Adam's constant complaints and Marsha's growls of assent all along the way, I decided to stop to grab a quick lunch.

The nearest place at hand (literally) was a small, smelly shop that sold only roasted, grilled, deep fried, and sautéed fish. I dug into my backpack and found, to my immense surprise and equal delight, a large roll of cash. I handed to the cashier the right amount and chose a table while we waited for our food to be served.

A growl and a rumble sounded somewhere quite close to my side. At first I assumed it was Marsha, but then fear wrapped its cold fingers round my heart, and nearly frozen, I turned to face the worst of my fears.

A serpent.

**Haha, cliffie! (*cackles wildly*) Keep reading and reviewing!**

**And sorry, but I'm afraid I've run out of pastries! Have some blueberry or chocolate chip muffins, if you like.**


	7. Chapter 7: We Trade Fried Fish

**I have decided to repeat that silly disclaimer after all. Readers, I do not own the original plot of Rick Riordan's series; neither did I create it. However, I do own the new characters and plot introduced here.**

**Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy!**

**And another thing—I finally thought of a monster that no one else before has used in their fanfics! Haha!**

Chapter 7: We Trade Fried Fish for A Sea Serpent

This was definitely more than I had ever bargained for.

The serpent continued to slowly draw its shimmering, scaly green body from beneath the tiles in the shop. Behind me, the cashiers yelled and the cook screamed. I'm not sure what they saw, but it must have been gruesome.

The serpent shook its aqua-frilled head and peered down at me. I was beginning to feel like a very tiny minnow before the shark when a crash of plates woke me up. Adam had hurled his entire serving of fried fish straight at the monster's eye.

My hand flew to the hilt of my sword; then I thought better of it. This must have been the very same serpent that the ancient Greek hero Perseus had battled, and this monster's scales were not an easy matter to deal with. Trying to buy time while I thought of something else, I joined Adam and Marsha in the fray and likewise hurled my fish at the serpent. I ran around the store, trying to slip past and get to the door, but the monster had apparently seen my design and, quick as thought, had coiled its body around the tables, completely blocking the entrance. This monster was much faster than I'd thought.

I pranced about the large room and wove nimbly through the jigsaw of overturned chairs, hoping to draw the monster's attention away and get it to follow me, once more freeing up the entrance. I jumped up on a table that was still wobbling precariously on its now three legs and shouted at the top of my lungs (which, I assure you as a singer, is quite loud), "Look over here, you dirty, slimy, icky, yucky, seaweed-brained serpent monster!"

I got my wish.

Just as I felt the hot breath of the serpent blasting steaming salt seawater in my eyes, I remembered the necklace. I ducked and crouched beneath the table in the booth and pressed my body as far as it would go against the wall, curling up in a tight ball. My hands flew to the back of my neck and unfastened the clasp, and within a second I had my trusty bow.

But I knew that I had never used this particular bow before.

Casting all caution to the sea, I gripped my bow and reached for an arrow. My fingers trembling, I fit it against the smooth, light celestial wood, drew back the taut string, and let it fly.

_Fly_.

The barb of the arrow caught the serpent just where I'd hoped in my subconscious it would—right beneath the frill of its neck, between the large plate-sized scales and piercing straight through the flesh. The serpent roared and spurted a fountain of fiery seawater, then slowly uncoiled itself and began to descend through the grey tiles. Then, suddenly, a cool breeze whipped through, and there was nothing left but a pile of dark ashes strewn across the floor and a group of huddled, wide-eyed clerks behind the counter. Still shaking, I rose unsteadily to my feet and found Adam and Marsha beside me.

"Come," I said, "let's get on."

Adam had certainly been right about finding the abandoned airport. Hundreds of thousands of millions of people milled about on the sidewalk and in the street, chatting on their cellphones and texting and bobbing along the pedestrian lanes. The three of us thrust our way through the noisy, smelly crowd and hurried as fast as we could down the sidewalk, blindly following all the signs that indicated an airport nearby.

Adam pointed. "Eva, why don't we use a public phone and find out at the tourist information center?" he suggested, mispronouncing my name for the gazillionth time that day.

I sighed. "It's Eva," I corrected him. "And no, we can't use the phone, remember? I've already explained to you before. More monsters and enemies can track us down if we use any sort of phone. You of all people should know that."

Adam just gave me an injured look, then nodded glumly. He himself had experienced monsters' attacks before due to carelessly using a friend's cellphone. "So what do we do now?" he said morosely, kicking at the pavement half-heartedly.

"We'll just have to keep on following the signs and try to get there as fast as we can," I said in a practical tone. "We only have seven days left, due to wasted time at Camp Half-Blood."

Marsha spoke for the first time. "What about this 'magic backpack' of yours?" she demanded. "Can't you dig up something, like flying sneakers or a magic navigator?"

I shook my head. "Don't you think I've tried that already?" I sighed.

"Maybe we should try Iris-messaging one of the gods," suggested Adam very brightly. "I could ask my mom or maybe Marsha's dad for some help here."

Marsha glared at him at the very mention of her Olympian parent. "You wouldn't dare ask any sort of favor from Ares," she said darkly. "And you wouldn't dare with me, either."

I struggled to speak. "Guys…"

"Come now," said a cheery voice behind us. "No need for all this tension."

I whirled. "Lord Hermes!"

**Haha, like the idea of a magic GPS? Come on, keep reviewing and reading! It gets even better!**

**(Oh, and I finally got the stupid oven working. Here, have some fresh-baked peanut butter cookies!)**


	8. Chapter 8: A Magic GPS

**I have decided to repeat that silly disclaimer after all. Readers, I do not own the original plot of Rick Riordan's series; neither did I create it. However, I do own the new characters and plot introduced here.**

**Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy!**

Chapter 8: A Magic GPS

Hermes nodded. He was dressed in a weird outfit consisting of a long, tight white t-shirt and skinny silver spandex leggings, like a celestial jogger, with a shining red Yankees cap perched cockily on his golden curls. He carried a large gold (seriously metallic) duffle slung carelessly over one shoulder.

My shock quickly gave way to indignation. I didn't care—even if he _was_ a god, he was still only a stupid, handsome Hermes who annoyed people by creeping up behind them and appearing to be the savior of the world. "What did you mean, scaring me out of my wits like that?" I hissed furiously. "And look at you—you look ridiculous! People would know you're not human!"

Hermes remained unperturbed by my outburst. "I have come to help," he announced grandly.

I rolled my eyes.

Suddenly he plunged his hand into the glittering depths of his duffle and produced with a flourish a tiny bracelet of some sort. I turned back, a new light of interest in my eyes. "What's that?"

"It looks like a watch," he explained, "but it's really a magic GPS."

I took it and examined it. It was a ladies' watch, with a wavy two-toned bracelet, a small oval ivory face, and two gold hands (**A/N: I really do wear that watch**).

"Pull out the gold knob," Hermes prompted.

I did so, twisting the time setter knob at the side. Immediately the bracelet disappeared, and the face expanded into a bright, beaming squarish screen with a small aerial view of Long Island. Tiny grids tracked all over the screen, but what I noticed was the yellowish network of highways tracing like a maze through the diagram. I pointed. "What are those?"

"Those are Olympian main roads," said Hermes. "But they're in the Underworld—only your father can use them."

"You mean Uncle Hades."

Hermes cast me a searching glance, then looked away again. "It's my personal GPS," he went on. "Use it whenever you think you've lost the scent. It immediately maps your next destination when you open it."

"Gee, thanks," I mumbled, hastily compacting the gadget and slipping it onto my wrist.

Hermes grinned boyishly. Then he was gone.

"Right. So now, where to?"

I glanced in mild surprise at Marsha—it was one of the first times she had ever spoken thus far on our quest. "We need a cab to get us about twenty miles east by northeast from here," I replied.

Adam bowed. "One already here, in fact."

I nodded my thanks and sprang into the back seat of the flashy yellow cab. "Florentine Airport, sir. And step on the gas."

The driver asked no questions.

In a moment Adam, Marsha, and I were standing in the middle of the dusty, deserted runway with backpacks slung over our shoulders, looking like a ragged homeless trio.

"Eva…"

"It's Eva," I muttered. "Yes?"

"There's nothing here," Adam pointed out. "How are we going to travel _into_ time from here?"

"There's supposed to be a sign of some sort," I said vaguely. I glanced around again for the thousandth time.

"What did the prophecy exactly say?" pressed Adam.

"_Three shall journey east to the forbidden land. They shall cross the ice of time, the desert sand_," I recited mechanically.

"Grah, you two! Are you blind? Look over here!"

I turned toward Marsha's harsh voice. She was bending intently over something small and dark lying on the ground. I strode over and snatched it up—it was a freshly sealed marble envelope, most likely from my recent correspondent, Uncle Hades. I impatiently broke the seal and scanned the lines. As usual, his writing was terse.

_Eva,_

_Your parents have instructed me to deliver to you the directions to your next destination._

_By this time, you should still have your backpack. Reach inside it now. You will find a pair of figure skates; put these on. The airport runway where you are standing will turn into a tunnel of ice—the magic skates should help you travel easily. I have also included two other pairs of ordinary skates for your quest members. But remember, do __not__ let go of your companions at any time for any reason, or they will be lost irredeemably in the bowels of time._

_Lord Hades_

**A/N: I have received several reviews complaining that Eva is a Mary Sue character; I wish once and for all to correct this view. Although on the surface Eva seems as if she is perfect (and this is necessary to establish her identity later in the story), her personality is flawed: she is rash, she gets easily angry and excited, and she does not mask her feelings in front of people she abhors (e.g. Marsha and Mr. D.).**

**Thank you for understanding, and keep on reviewing! (*hands out platefuls of peanut blossoms*) :-)**


	9. Chapter 9: I Perform a Double Lutz

**I have decided to repeat that silly disclaimer after all. Readers, I do not own the original plot of Rick Riordan's series; neither did I create it. However, I do own the new characters and plot introduced here.**

**Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy!**

Chapter 9: I Perform a Double Lutz

Adam grunted as he tugged on the unwieldy hockey skates; Marsha followed suit, grumbling about the "imperfect" fit.

My face was creased with worry. "Guys, hurry," I said. "I can feel monsters coming."

My words worked magic. Adam scrambled to his feet. "How do you know?"

"I smell them," I explained hastily.

Adam looked at me curiously. Then he returned to reality. "Right-o. So we have to…hold hands? And the ground will turn into ice?"

For answer, I reached down and grasped his palm firmly in mine. It felt awkward at first, but I had no time to think about that now. With my other hand I held Marsha's meaty fist; then I took a deep breath and said, "Ready?"

"Ready!"

Suddenly the ground seemed to lunge upward at me. The pavement spun around us, and I caught my breath as we were whirled into a spinning winter draft like tiny ants in an overflowing sink. "Whatever happens, don't let go!" I shouted, projecting my voice effectively over the roar of the wolf wind.

Abruptly Zephyrus' breath slackened, and we found ourselves standing completely still at the mouth of a long, dim tunnel with curved walls of opaque ice. I shivered.

"I brought jackets," said Adam, grinning. "Never know what you will encounter on a quest like this." In silence Marsha and I took the down jackets; then I grasped my companions' hands firmly and led on.

"You're so fast!"

I bowed my head to form a streamlined position against the wind, but said nothing. Maybe my real father—who knows, perhaps even Apollo himself—had now equipped me with the speed of a hunter and the skill of a pro. But all that mattered now was to get through. (**A/N: I really do advanced freestyle figure skating!**)

Suddenly I sighted an intersection just a few hundred yards ahead. My GPS!

"Adam! Grab my watch and pull out the knob!"

"What?"

"Use your free hand!" I yelled. "Don't let go!"

He understood. He jerked the precious bracelet from my wrist and single-handedly (literally) expanded the watch into the GPS. "Turn right!" he shouted back.

"Hold on tight!" I gripped their hands and sprang off from the ice, flew through the air, and landed with a solid thud on the right track. I had naturally spun in the air; no doubt I had knocked the breath from my companions.

"Don't worry, I still have it!" said Adam, waving the magic GPS.

"Hold it for now and direct me," I instructed him. And so we progressed swiftly, dodging dead ends and false turns and performing literally breathtaking spins whenever I nearly missed the correct tunnel. I can hardly tell now how far we went, but it must have been a couple hundred miles before I suddenly began to feel a warm breeze shifting my disheveled dark hair.

"We must be far away from New York by now," panted Adam.

I nearly stumbled in my surprise. "But…!"

"I know," he replied. "The Greek world is supposed to remain in the west, right? But you see, the higher world—meaning the Lower Realm and the sky and the tunnels of time—don't end there. Those paths track all over the world."

By this time, the air was growing heavy and oppressively hot. I glanced around: the walls were no longer ice. They were fiery red stone.

I looked back at him and slowed to a neat T-stop (**A/N: an ice skating term**) until the three of us were standing uncertainly in the middle of the infinite tunnel. "So where are we now?"

Adam showed me the glowing screen. "Look! We are precisely beneath the Sahara Desert in Africa."

I bit my lip. "We're not moving now," I remarked. "I guess I can let you go for a sec. I need to study the map for a moment."

Adam obediently handed the gadget to me. I peered suspiciously at the screen—and then it struck me. "Hey!" I exclaimed. "Remember, the prophecy said something about '_the desert sand_'? Well, here we are. And that means we have to go…"

"…Up."

"Precisely," I said. "And _that_ means there should be an opening right above us."

The three of us swiveled our heads toward the ceiling as one. Sure enough, bright dancing beams of light filtered through the dusty trapdoor embedded there. I didn't waste time. I threw off my jacket (which Adam caught with an "oof!") and pulled myself up, gripping the narrow handholds in the solid stone wall. "Help me up," I called down to them.

Marsha, for the second time on this quest, made herself useful. She planted her mammoth body squarely on the ground and lifted my slim frame with only the slightest of efforts. I panted my thanks and reached up, brushing away the dirt from the trapdoor. My probing fingers encountered the latch: it was old and rusty, and it took a bit of extra strength to clean it and heave the bolt out of the slot. But it was well worth the effort. The narrow tunnel was soon flooded with the welcome warmth of the sunlight, and gratefully I sucked in deep breaths of fresh air and crawled out. Adam and Marsha followed soon after.

I gasped.

**I've been naughty, haven't I? I have been playing around with Greek mythology—inventing the "higher world" and the "tunnels of time." Well, scroll down the menu and keep on reading! It gets even better!**

**Oh, oh! And don't forget to review and let me know what you think! (Remember, **_**No Mary-Sue Comments!**_**)**

…**And here are some mini croissants for you. Tip: They're delicious with blueberry jam.**


	10. Chapter 10: My Frenemy Introduces

**I have decided to repeat that silly disclaimer after all. Readers, I do not own the original plot of Rick Riordan's series; neither did I create it. However, I do own the new characters and plot introduced here.**

**Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy!**

Chapter 10: My Frenemy Introduces My Enemy

The young man narrowed his eyes.

He was tall and lean, with dirty blonde hair tossed carelessly across his brow; his eyes were a wild and darting deep brown, and his clothing was black and ragged. But what I noticed immediately was the hideous, writhing scar slashed across his eye, squeezing it nearly shut.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed, his voice low and harsh. It was only then that I noted with a large swallow the glinting point of his smoky steel blade poised at my chin.

Even in my trembling fear, I tried a shaky smile and a witty comeback. "I'm touring the country."

The young man sneered. "You mean the _desert_."

"And what do you think _you_ are doing here?" demanded Marsha fiercely, planting herself protectively beside me and cocking her large fists on her hips. For the first time in my whole life I felt truly grateful for her.

The color drained from the young man's face. "Not you!"

Marsha lifted her chin. "Yes, I. I am the second daughter of Ares, lord of war. And I am even greater than my sister Clarisse."

At this, the confidence flowed back into the young man's features. "So you are not Clarisse," he concluded. His dark golden eyes shifted back to me; he motioned impatiently with his sword. "Get on."

"Not until you tell me who you are." (Wow, I could be so stubborn sometimes.)

"I am Luke Castellan," he said, pronouncing his name with a sort of pride mingled with anger at my audacity. He pushed his blade up between my shoulders and spun me around. "Now move."

Seeing that it was useless at this point to resist, I hurriedly complied.

Luke prodded me forward across the searing, blinding heat into the welcome shade of a makeshift camp, where he had draped white canvas from poles to form a large open tent or marquee of sorts. When I hesitated, looking back at Adam and Marsha, he shoved the hilt into my back and sent me reeling to the sand in a tangled mess.

With worry in his eyes, Adam sank down slowly beside me and proffered again his nineteenth-century handkerchief to wipe my brow. Marsha huffed indignantly and, with a murderous glare at the disappearing figure of Luke, settled down also.

I sat up with an effort. "Who is he?"

"A pig," growled Marsha. "A deviant son of our Lord Hermes. He turned evil years ago, in the time of Percy Jackson."

I knit my brows together. "Who?"

"Percy Jackson," repeated Marsha. "Actually, Perseus Jackson. He was twelve when he arrived at Camp Half-Blood, my big sis Clarisse told me. He was the only human son of Poseidon, and he set out on a quest to fulfill a prophecy about himself and destroy the Titan lord Kronos."

I was keenly interested. "Tell me more!"

"This guy Percy, he was real powerful, is all," grunted Marsha, shrugging gruffly. "It was said that when he turned sixteen, he would either greatly aid the Olympian gods or destroy them forever. Turned out he killed Kronos."

"Wow," I breathed.

"You there, stop jawing about! Get up!"

I started and sprang to my feet as Luke reappeared, rattling his car keys. He jerked a thumb back at the ratty jeep behind him. "Get in, girl. You go first."

Obediently I climbed into the front seat he indicated and looked back again to make sure my friends were in the back. Then he slammed the doors shut, turned the key, and we were off.

As the engine rumbled to life and we chugged over the narrow trail snaking through the sifting sand, I mustered up my courage and said, "Where are you taking us?"

Luke glanced at me; large black and gold sunglasses hid the expression of his scarred eye. "To your new master."

"Whom do you work for?" I pressed.

"I work for myself," he snapped. "Shut up, girl. I want no more questions."

"I insist on finding out what villain is going to torture me."

Behind me, I heard Adam's silent, breathless laugh.

To my surprise, Luke erupted into a guffaw. "I am your new master," he announced. "I am Castellan, god of the thieves and the shadows."

I gasped. "_God_?"

He grinned, displaying perfect, wickedly white teeth. "When Kronos was dying, he called me and told me I had served him well. He said he knew that he wouldn't be able to resurrect himself anymore. So he gave me the gift of his own divinity."

It was all I could do to rip away my scowl.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Adam shaking his head at me and frowning.

Luke sobered and grew ill-tempered again. "Hey now," he said, "it's not fair that you're asking all the questions. I think I should be asking more about _you_. First of all, who are you?"

"Eva," I replied promptly. "And that's Eva with a short _e_."

His next question seemed to pain him a bit. "Who's your Olympian parent?"

"I'm—I'm unclaimed."

He turned back to me with renewed interest in his tone. "And so how did you get this little quest of yours?"

I lifted my chin defiantly. "I escaped."

He leered at me. "You can't escape from me."

I smiled grimly. "Oh yes, I can."

The young god snickered. "Prove it."

I opened my mouth and sang.

**The workings of my own convoluted brain are sometimes surprising even to me. It was a spontaneous inspiration to include Luke—I thought a new surprise to keep the readers excited is always worth the effort.**

**Anyway, please continue to be patient for the updates! Review, review!**

**By the way, have you ever heard of lemon meringue pie? *dangles platefuls of tantalizing desert* 'Tis truly my sister's specialty!**


	11. Chapter 11: Hippie Days

**I have decided to repeat that silly disclaimer after all. Readers, I do not own the original plot of Rick Riordan's series; neither did I create it. However, I do own the new characters and plot introduced here.**

**Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy!**

Chapter 11: Hippie Days

Luke stiffened.

My voice was amazingly strong despite its disuse. I slowly climbed up a steep scale of precise notes, singing random vowels with all the strength I had left in my exhausted body. There were no magic words to the spontaneous song, but I made up for it by throwing myself into it wholly.

"Stop," said Luke.

I sang even louder and ever higher.

"Stop!"

Without faltering a fraction of a second, I took advantage of his distraction and yanked at the handle. The car door flopped aside, and I flew out, dragging my friends behind me. I was still singing, but I didn't think of the consequences—I hoisted my backpack and began to run.

My song left a careless trail of itself behind me as I darted across the treacherous blazing sand. Far behind I caught Luke's bellow and his hiss of ire, but I didn't stop even then. I pounded on.

Within a few moments we found ourselves on the broad highway leading into the distant Nowhere.

"He's not gone yet," Adam reminded me.

"I know," I said. "But he's only a minor god with limited powers. With a ratty jeep like that, he can't catch us very soon."

"But we must keep on moving," put in Marsha.

I set my jaw and led the way. Suddenly the road began to appear somewhat more populated; Beetles and old Volkswagens rumbled past us, and tall African women from the city sported their white miniskirts and high vinyl boots. I stopped in shock. "Adam…"

"No surprise," he replied. "We've been traveling through the tunnels of time, remember? It turns out we're back in the seventies."

I flipped open my GPS. "And it also turns out we're still hundreds of miles away from our next destination."

Marsha's eyes were shifty. "We don't belong here. We look too futuristic."

"What else did the prophecy say?" Adam interrupted.

I searched back in my memory. "_One shall be lost, another broken; The third shall die and leave a token_."

"Grim thoughts," observed Adam. "Looks like we ought to stick together."

"Even if we do," I pointed out, "what is announced in the prophecy will come true, no matter what."

"Fatalistic," muttered Adam.

I jabbed him.

"I guess we just have to follow the directions in the GPS, then," he concluded glumly. "What's it say, Eva?"

I was so elated I hardly noticed his question. "You said my name right!"

He flushed somewhat sheepishly. "I've been practicing."

"Anyway," I said, returning to the point, "we missed the turn back there in our little encounter with…that young god. We have to follow the more complicated highways now, according to this thing, and find it again. It will lead into what appears to be…a jungle?...that will take us further back in time. There, I really hope, we will find Nienna."

Adam shifted his pack and began walking. "Then let's be off."

"What about food?" grumbled Marsha.

Three hours later found our little band trudging through stubborn thickets and dodging treacherous vines. True to my prediction, we were stumbling in the dark through a narrow, infinitely long tunnel surrounded on all sides by the dense jungle that was obviously not part of the real world. Just as Adam announced loudly that he had stepped on a frog, I sighed and stopped.

"Look, guys," I said, "we can't go on forever like this without a light. Maybe my bow will help."

I quickly unclasped the owl-and-arrow necklace round my neck and soon held a shining golden yew bow with the trusty quiver of arrows. Though it didn't serve its originally intended purpose, the weapon glowed brightly enough to guide us past natural booby traps.

Suddenly I found Adam's arm pressing against my side. Sensing he wanted to talk privately with me, I leaned over.

"The prophecy said an awful lot about our getting separated," he began.

I nodded and faced forward again.

"I just can't help wondering who's going to be lost, and who will be broken," he went on. "But more importantly, who is going to die?"

**This was a relatively short chapter; however, I will try to make up for it in the next one. Meanwhile, please let me know what you think! And enjoy some cream-and-Oreo pie while you're typing your reviews!**


	12. Chapter 12: Best Friends ForNever

**I have decided to repeat that silly disclaimer after all. Readers, I do not own the original plot of Rick Riordan's series; neither did I create it. However, I do own the new characters and plot introduced here.**

**Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy!**

Chapter 12: Best Friends For-Never

"Adam? Adam! Where are you, Adam?"

Desperately I flashed the light of my bow around the rustling, ominous jungle. Besides Marsha's bulky figure next to me, there was not another soul in sight.

"Oh, Marsha! Where'd he go?" I cried. "Didn't you see him?"

Marsha shook her head.

I grew hysterical. "Where could he have gone? We can't just leave him lost here in the semi-metaphysical jungle!"

"But we can't leave the path either," Marsha said practically. "Besides, if he really were here, he would have heard our voices and shouted back something. Most likely," she added darkly, "he got caught."

"Caught?" I repeated faintly. "But by whom? And what do we do? As the leader of this quest, I certainly can't just abandon him in the clutches of our enemies!"

"Good point," she sighed.

Half-sobbing, I dropped to my knees and ran a shaky hand through my tangled hair. Then it struck me. "Marsha," I said, with a discernable tone of regret, "the prophecy."

She understood. "_He's_ the one who would be lost."

I struggled to my feet again with a deep sigh of resignation. "I suppose," I said, drawing my words out with an effort, "we should go on for now. We can't stay here forever with two lost people and starve ourselves to death from worrying. We have to find Nienna first—we only have four days left. Then, I swear by my unknown parent, I will return and find Adam myself."

As I turned back to my last remaining companion, I started at the glistening of moisture in her crimson eyes. "Marsha? What's wrong?"

She struggled to contain herself. "Eva, the prophecy says one will be broken," she said. "And then I keep thinking, is it me next? Or will I be the one to die?"

I bit my lip and braved a ghastly smile. I laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry," I said shakily, no doubt looking like a fool as I grinned through my red eyes and runny nose.

I turned forward again and began walking.

"I can feel that we're getting nearer," I breathed, as if nearly afraid to shatter the dark glass of silence.

"We're not in the jungle anymore," noted Marsha. But it was not her observation that made me turn around.

"Marsha," I said suddenly, "you have a beautiful voice."

I could almost feel the heat of her blush in the dark. She sniffled. "I do?"

I smiled, suddenly overcome by an overwhelming wave of unsettling peace. "I told you not to worry about the prophecy," I said, and added out of pure intuition, "And I think it _has_ been already fulfilled, Marsha—at least, your part of it. 'Broken' can mean many things. In this case, I think your…_meanness _has been broken."

She sniffed injuredly, then breathed a heartrending sigh of relief. Then she stiffened again. "But the later part…"

I sobered. "I know. It's me."

"But your sister Nienna?"

I set my jaw and looked up again. I must have looked like a scholarly heroine of the ancients, with my futuristic black lenses perched on the bridge of my nose to set off my flashing sword and glowing bow.

"I will do what I have to do," I replied evenly, and faced forward again. "Come, let's get on."

Surprisingly, it only took a few moments before the thick, dark jungle suddenly broke apart and fell away, and we found ourselves confronted by a high white stone wall, astonishingly smooth and impossibly solid. I banged my nose and dropped my glasses on the ground and was forced to grope in the dark for them before I realized the very presence of the wall.

Marsha growled. "I don't like it. It's another trap."

I breathed out slowly to steady myself and suppress the mounting hysteria over the loss of time. "Be calm," I said, though no doubt my voice told the opposite. "It's just a puzzle we have to get past."

"What about your GPS?"

I shook my head. "I'm afraid that won't help us anymore. I've already tried that—it only tells us to go _through_ the wall, but not exactly _how_."

"Maybe we could just batter it and break it down with our swords or something," she suggested. Of course, force and brute strength were on her side.

I pressed the tips of my fingers to the wall: it was cold. Cold and dead. And yet it remained stubbornly firm—there just had to be another way.

Suddenly my fingers encountered a series of depressions and grooves in the center of the wall. My hands trembled as I quickly scraped out the dust with my bare fingernails to reveal a tiny, intricate design etched deep in the stone. It looked familiar…

I whirled. "My necklace!"

Marsha stared. "What?"

I shook my head and fumbled for the pendant dangling from my bow and tapped it twice; immediately it collapsed and converted back to my gold and silver necklace with the owl-and-arrow design. Slowly I took it and pressed it carefully into the engraving in the wall.

It fit.

"Eva, what in Hades are you doing?"

I raised my hand impatiently for silence. My mind raced: the pendant fit perfectly, but nothing was happening. And then a tingling scampered down the very veins of my hands and zipped up my arms, knotting together at my throat. I understood.

I took a step back, but I did not let go of the wall just yet. Then I began to sing.

It was the same wordless song I had sung when escaping from the shadowed powers of Luke. Almost immediately the stone began to quiver and grow hot beneath my hand. It scalded my fingertips, but I barely noticed it in my desperation and struggled on.

Then, ever so slowly, a long fissure appeared in the wall and grew larger and wider. I realized what was happening: a secret panel was sliding back with an unbearable grating noise to reveal a steep flight of stone steps leading down into utter darkness.

Without a word, I signaled to Marsha in the back to follow me; then I placed my foot on the cold stone stair and began my descent.

**My sister always called me a master of suspense.**

**(*doles out leftover Nutter Butter mini-bites* Sorry. The oven broke again.)**


	13. Chapter 13: Duel to the Death

**I have decided to repeat that silly disclaimer after all. Readers, I do not own the original plot of Rick Riordan's series; neither did I create it. However, I do own the new characters and plot introduced here.**

**Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy!**

Chapter 13: Duel to the Death

It was indefinably chilly. Involuntarily I shivered, and my teeth chattered, but of course we could not wear our down jackets because Adam had carried them for us.

I thrust away the thought of Adam forcibly from my mind and focused on my important mission ahead.

It was then that we came to the foot of the stairs and found that we had reached the mouth of an infinite corridor dimly lit by flickering torches. I motioned to Marsha to keep moving quickly.

Suddenly I stopped and cocked my head to the side. After years of musical training, my ears were as sharp as a deer's: they could not fail me now. "Quiet!" I whispered to Marsha. "I heard something—over in this direction. Follow me."

Almost out of pure intuition, I turned aside into a narrow passage branching off into darkness and made my way slowly in the inky darkness, following only the tiny sound I had caught earlier. The path began to slope downward, and the air was growing oppressively hot. In the back of my mind I recognized that we had discovered another tunnel of time.

Suddenly the sound seemed to spring out at me only a few feet away. I started back and listened. It was a low, keening cry, like the soft moan of a female child.

I groped through the ebony curtain of air until my hand encountered a firm, solid panel of wood. My fingers trailed further down and touched a knob; I tried it, but it was locked.

The sound was suddenly cut off, as if muffled heavily by a cloth. I heard other low sounds from within what was presumably a small chamber—there was another presence.

"Might as well break down the door," muttered Marsha in my ear. "Seems like they already know we're here."

"That is correct," said a voice behind us.

I whirled. His face was hardly discernable in the eerie gloom, but it was not hard to recognize the sardonic voice in the scarred face framed by streaked golden hair. I glanced down his black clothing: he was holding his smoky dark sword Backbiter at my chest.

"What do you want, Luke?" I growled.

He motioned impatiently with his head. "Go in. We must discuss grave matters."

Reluctantly, and imparting a backward glare, I turned and slipped in through the now open doorway. I gasped.

It was Nienna, bound and gagged, lying on the hard stone floor. Her black hair was tangled and muddy, and her drawn face showed evidence of recent scratches; her clothes were ragged and greasy. I fought the urge to run to her.

"Your affection for your sister is touching," remarked Luke, scattering my thoughts. "And I would be willing to give her back to you, in exchange for one small thing."

"Tell me. I'll do anything." I was still aware, of course, of the blade pressing against my skin.

"I want your life."

I started. "What?"

"You are too powerful to be allowed to roam free and alive to foil my plans," Luke went on. He seemed to observe the horror in my dark eyes with savage delight. "Yes, I have high hopes for my own future. I am the new young god of darkness, and soon, through patience and skill and brilliance, I will be able to rule all Olympus…and eventually the whole world."

I stared at him. "You don't know what you're saying."

"Oh yes, I do," he replied. "You do not know the extent of your own powers, Eva Ligaya. You say you are unclaimed; and that was a wise decision of your parents to conceal your heritage, to protect your life. But alas, it is all in vain. I know perfectly well what I am doing. And I know _who you are_."

I studied the crafty grin contorting his features; I glanced down at Nienna, then back at him. I swallowed. "All right," I said, prepared to run myself through. "But promise me one thing."

He looked sharply at me, as if he suspected a ruse. "What?"

"It must be a duel—a good, fair fight. If I kill you, I will take Nienna. If—"

"Wait a minute!" he exclaimed. "Who are you to assume that you can kill me? I am a god now. You cannot kill me."

"You don't know your Greek mythology, Luke," I said evenly. I went on. "If I die, you must swear to me that you will let her go, just as you said."

He laughed, spreading his arms expansively. "Of course I will swear to you," he chuckled. "But what does my empty promise mean to you?"

In a flash I had my sword drawn also. "Swear it," I cried, "or my death will be in vain. Swear by your own divinity."

He glanced down at the point of my silver sword quivering at his throat. He swallowed; apparently he knew I was right that I _could_ kill him. He looked up again with murder in his eyes. "All right!" he hissed. "I swear it, by my own divinity!"

He sprang at me, his blade flashing. Our swords clashed like a thousand iron bells in midair. I darted forward and thrust; he grimaced and parried, and bolts of painful energy shuddered up my arm. Gritting my teeth, I danced backward again and parried his outward moves; then I tried to advance, but his formidable Backbiter was over two feet long. It was impossible.

It was then that I knew all was in vain.

We moved across the grey stone floor in a fierce unfailing rhythm, as if it were all a great dance. I stepped to the side, and he followed me; he sprang back, and I surged on after him.

It happened all too quickly.

I only saw the flash of steel high up in the air; I lunged aside to dodge it. In a second I was down on my knees, and the flat of his sword was beating incessantly on my wrist. My blade flew up into the air and clattered with the toll of a death bell on the stone floor a yard away.

The sweat poured down my brow; I was breathing hard. Slowly I raised my head again in time to see the wicked glistening point of the black blade crashing down upon me. The pain in my chest was blinding in its intensity. My mouth opened in a silent scream.

And my soul fluttered upward on whispering wings.

**(*runs around in circles* Ack! Don't kill me! Keep on reading!)**


	14. Chapter 14: A Conclave with My Ancestors

**I have decided to repeat that silly disclaimer after all. Readers, I do not own the original plot of Rick Riordan's series; neither did I create it. However, I do own the new characters and plot introduced here.**

**Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy!**

Chapter 14: A Conclave with My Ancestors

The whole world seemed to glisten with silver and gold. Slowly I made the long climb up the sloping grassy hill until at last a shining building loomed ahead of me in the distance.

As I drew nearer, I saw that it was like an ancient Greek pavilion, complete with tall white pillars and vines trailing down from the semi-open roof. A narrow cobbled path of precious stones led the way up to it; I followed and found, to my surprise, that there were twelve humongous thrones with twelve equally powerful-looking persons occupying them.

I stood silently in the doorway and surveyed them. Off to the far left were the men, among whom I recognized the ever-scowling Mr. D.; at his side were a few other gods, among whom I surmised the stocky one was Marsha's dad Ares. A couple others followed, including the all-so-familiar jogger Hermes and the winking Apollo. To the far right were the goddesses, including a tall, dark-haired woman who resembled Adam—here my heart throbbed—and must be Lady Demeter. There was Athena in a modern camper's outfit of blue jeans to offset her stormy grey eyes; beside her was an eyelash-batting one whom I supposed—rather disgustedly, in fact—was the beautiful Aphrodite. Others, such as red-haired Artemis, sat at attention further away. But what I noticed right away was the three potent brothers seated in the center—Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades.

I gave my most humble obeisance.

Zeus spoke, his voice rumbling with thunder. "Welcome, daughter of the Olympians."

I continued to glance around at the company, unsure of the purpose of my visit here. Then I remembered it all.

"Am I dead?" I asked.

"Not quite," corrected Zeus. He stood up, and clouds seemed to swirl all about his body. "Rather, we have called you here."

My amazing intuition kicked in. "Is this about my parentage?"

The three brothers glanced at each other somewhat uneasily. At last Hades spoke: "Yes."

I waited in silence.

"When I first wrote you a note, I left you a small something from your parents," Hades went on.

"The necklace," I finished for him, and reached up to unclasp it from my neck. I gasped in surprise. It was gone!

"I—I can't have…lost it," I said faintly. "I was just wearing it…" And then it struck me—I had used it as a key to open the stone door to the underground tunnels of time. And I had left it there.

"Lord Zeus…does this mean I can't be claimed?" I ventured.

He shook his head. "It is as the prophecy said," he replied. "_One shall die and leave a token_. This token, the necklace, still binds you to earthly life. This means that you are not dead—yet. But you can still be claimed, if your parents will it." He turned and looked around at the other gods and goddesses.

"We will it," began Athena. She glanced across at Apollo. "Apollo, we must tell our daughter now. It is only for her own good."

Sighing but half-smiling, Apollo rose to join Lady Athena in the center of the pavilion. "Eva, you are the daughter of Apollo and Athena," he announced.

I stared, speechless.

"I know," said Athena, guessing my thoughts (she must have been good at that). "Because your parents are both Olympians, that means you would be—"

"—a goddess," I whispered. The truth of this revelation was just beginning to sink into me.

"Lord Zeus wills it that you be named Eva, goddess of the orphans," Athena went on.

"Does that mean…?"

Athena nodded. "Yes. As a goddess, you have been granted divinity and immortality."

A thrill seized my heart. "I can hardly believe…" The prophecy! "Oh, yes! The prophecy said that _One shall rise to join the twelve_."

My parents smiled at my ecstasy.

Suddenly my face fell. "What about Nienna?"

Athena and Apollo seemed, for the first time, at a loss. Then Athena said hastily, "We will take care of her and make sure that your sister is safely back at Camp Half-Blood."

"But—but I just can't leave her there!" I cried. "What about Marsha and Adam…and what about Luke?"

"We know all that has transpired," said Zeus, once more entering the conversation.

"Why would you care anyway about your crybaby sister, duh?" remarked Mr. D.

I was still troubled. "Please," I said, "can't I just go back, at least once? I must say good-bye to Nienna. I mean, if I'm a goddess and she's still mortal, that means I will live to see her death…"

Athena was truly moved by my plea. "Yes, you may visit her whenever you like," she said. "But you must also understand that because you are a goddess, you cannot always live there down on earth. You will eventually lose both your divinity and your immortality."

I raised my tear-stained face and gazed all around at all the gods. "I love Nienna. I cannot leave her. If I must sacrifice my immortality, then so be it."

Apollo seemed worried. "Hey Eva, it's not that simple," he said urgently. "Sacrificing your immortality would defy the prophecy. That's not possible."

"To Hades with that prophecy!" I shouted. (Uncle Hades flinched.) "I don't care what your stupid Oracle says. If I love Nienna, I stay with Nienna. And it just so happens that maybe I don't like this nonsense about immortality anymore."

Suddenly Zeus stood, electricity flowing everywhere from him. "Then so be it!"

I maintained my dignity. I bowed low, turned, and slowly began my descent down the golden path. But just as I was moving a few yards away, I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. I looked up: it was my mother.

"You understand well enough, Eva, that if you give up your immortality, you may die as soon as you return to earth," she warned me.

I nodded. "I understand perfectly, mother." I smiled at her reassuringly through my tears and gave a quick, small squeeze.

"Then go, and may you journey be swift and easy," she whispered, releasing me.

I turned and let my soul float back to earth.

**This was a stressful experience for Eva, wasn't it? Well, I'll keep you posted. Probably two more chapters or so.**

**(*offers frosted cupcakes to anyone who wants some*)**


	15. Chapter 15: I Switch Lives with My Enemy

**I have decided to repeat that silly disclaimer after all. Readers, I do not own the original plot of Rick Riordan's series; neither did I create it. However, I do own the new characters and plot introduced here.**

**Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy!**

Chapter 15: I Switch Lives with My Enemy

Nienna screamed.

My very first sensation as soon as my soul slipped back into my body was pain—blinding, crippling, oppressive pain. I was lying on the cold stone floor, shivering and battling against the cramps that seized my entire body. I looked down and saw that Backbiter's two-foot blade was buried deep in my chest, passing clean past my heart and out my back. At the moment, it did not strike me as odd that I had still lived—what mattered most at that point was the battle at hand.

With a vicious jerk that sapped me of an amazing amount of strength, I heaved the sword free and scrambled to my feet, ignoring the blood pouring down my shirt onto my hands. I turned and crouched, facing once more the leering face of my enemy, Castellan.

I could still remember how he had his head thrown back in a terrible laugh, his feet planted in front of where I had previously lain. He turned at the last second, just when it was too late—my anger seized control of my whole body. I slashed. The biting edge of the blade came in contact with his head, and his handsome face was forever frozen in that hideous grin. Those deep golden eyes glazed over and never opened again.

Slowly he sank to his knees, and his body seemed to thin out and fade into air. A moment later, a whispering wind swept through the room and carried away his golden ashes, leaving the chamber empty and still.

I stood rooted to the ground, unable to believe what I had just done. Backbiter was still in my hand, caked in crimson liquid; my hand uncurled itself and released the sword, and slowly it tumbled through the air and entered through the stone floor without a sound. It vanished.

Truly, it had been its owner's backbiter.

At last I turned to see that Marsha had freed Nienna's hands and thrown away her gag. With tears in her eyes, Nienna stumbled toward me with arms outstretched, and for the first time we shared a truly heartfelt embrace.

And then everything seemed to waver and dim before my eyes; the floor tilted toward me, and I sank down in Nienna's strong, comforting arms, ready to go home.

For the second time in my whole life, I woke up in an infirmary.

I turned my head to see Nienna perched atop a stool at my bedside, smiling and holding out a plate of ambrosia and a glass of nectar to me. Silently I took it with a nod of thanks and ate and dank deeply; immediately the dull throbbing in my chest disappeared, and I could breathe more easily again. I smiled back at her as I struggled to sit up with the aid of the double pillows. Then I settled down to talk.

"How was it?" I asked.

Nienna didn't understand at first. "You mean…being captured?"

"Yes."

"It was quick. I was walking to the Big House one evening to talk to Chiron about you—he didn't know I was coming—when suddenly Luke sprang out at me. Being the god of shadows and all, he was easily able to overpower me and carry me away to his ship _Andromeda_. The journey must have been fast, because when I woke up, we were in his camp in the Sahara Desert."

"What did he plan to…do with you?" I interrupted.

Nienna shook her head. "I'm not sure. I think he wanted to use me as a bait to lure you into his lair so he could kill you—"

"Because I'm a goddess," I finished for her. I nodded at her astonishment. "Yes, our father is Apollo, but my mother is Athena. That night when I was fighting Luke…and he stuck me through the heart…I died."

"You what?"

"I died. I went to Mount Olympus to meet with all the gods, and I was claimed there by Apollo and Athena. I—I also made a hard decision."

Nienna could hardly wait to hear more. "What did you do?"

"I was named the goddess of orphans, Nienna. But being immortal meant that I would have to live in Olympus and never see you again. So…I gave up my immortality."

Tears glistened in Nienna's beautiful dark eyes. She shook her head slowly. "Eva…what have you done to yourself…you could have been much, much happier there on Olympus…"

I refused to retract my decision. "Nienna, I did it for you. I didn't want to be immortal and live to see you die."

"But you have given up the greatest gift of your entire life!" she sobbed. "Why can't you just stop thinking about me and—and start thinking about yourself?"

"I…just couldn't bear it," I said, a bit lamely. "I know, you think I'm very foolish, but…"

"…But it can still be remedied," said a voice from the doorway.

We whirled. Chiron was standing at the door in full centaur form, gazing at Nienna and me with an inscrutable expression. Slowly he trotted over to where we sat and repeated, "Yes, there is yet a remedy to undo your decision, Eva."

I blinked back tears. "What is that?"

"You must embark on another quest," he said.

Before he could go on, the hilarity of the whole situation suddenly struck me. I burst into laughter, ignoring the stares I earned from fellow patients and even my sister Nienna. "Look," I said, "I just come back from the dead, am named a goddess, lose my immortality, and utterly defeat Olympus's most dangerous enemy, and you come along and say I have to go on another quest?"

Even Chiron seemed somewhat amused by now by my reaction. He nodded, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "That is correct," he affirmed. "I have just consulted the Oracle, and have received another prophecy concerning you. You must—"

"But the first prophecy hasn't even been fully fulfilled yet!" I exclaimed in dismay. "Or has it?"

"It has," said Chiron.

"But there was something else—_A half-blood through the dark realm delve_. Who's that half-blood who is going to die?"

"That is—_was_—Luke Castellan," replied Chiron, with an audible tone of regret. "The foolish young man swore to you on his own divinity that he would release your sister Nienna if you died in the duel, but he did not fulfill his promise. He meant to use Nienna as a pawn in building up a vast army—but don't let's get into that right now. In short, he broke his vow, and thus lost his divinity; he became a half-blood again. And then, of course, you…slew him."

I struggled to remember the last couplet of the prophecy. "And what about '_The lost shall return from the realm of the past,/But what will come first is what you thought last_'?"

"That was me who came back," explained Nienna. "As for the last line, I'm not sure. It could be anything, really. It could refer to your death and return to life, or your being named a goddess, or—or…"

Suddenly I knew exactly what she was thinking. "Losing Adam."

"Yes," broke in Chiron.

I also knew what he was going to say next. "And my next quest is to bring him back."

The other two stared at me in silence as I digested the full meaning of everything that had just transpired. At last I looked up and declared, "After I recover fully, I will obey the prophecy of the Oracle and go on a quest again. I know and acknowledge that Lord Zeus himself wills it."

Chiron nodded; then Nienna stood and laid an arm beneath my head. "Rest," she urged me. "You have much to think about. And you are safe here."

And I slowly drifted back to wondrous, dreamless sleep.

_Finis_


	16. Author's Note

_**Author's Note**_

"**Gentlemen may cry, 'Peace! Peace!' But there is no peace." –Patrick Henry**

**Likewise, readers may cry "More! More!"; but there is no more—at least, not in this book. But there **_**is**_** more to come in another book, the sequel fanfic **_**Immortal**_**. In this sequel, Eva embarks on another quest with her sister Nienna to find her lost friend Adam and to reclaim her immortality. Expect it soon!**

**Your humble authoress,**

**~The Ocean Is My Inkwell**

_**Note: The sequel, **_**Immortal**_**, is rated T for more action and mild romance.**_


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